Page 45

A cceptance of Myself

“W hat is wrong with her?” Rafferty demanded. He crouched next to where Helena lay on a queen-sized bed, her wings hanging off to the opposite side. They had returned to Honey’s apartment, carrying her inside. The whole time she still hadn’t woken, nor did she feel any warmer, even as he pulled the quilt there over her.

“She has expended too much of the gift given to her,” Honey said gravely. “When it is fully expended, she will return to the ot her side.”

“No!” Rafferty cried, grabbing her hand as if that would keep her there.

“It is not something sad, corn muffin. She may return here again,” Honey assured. “If she w ishes to.”

“She may?”

“That is not the whole of it,” éliott said. He stood on the other side of the bed, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “She will not return within your lifetime. Time is different on the other side”—then he blinked and cleared his throat—“as you proba bly know.”

“But I can’t…” a weak v oice said.

Rafferty’s whole being leapt, refocusing on Helena. She remained lying on her side, her eyes closed, but her tongue licked her lips before speak ing again.

“If I go… Rafferty, I’m so sor—” Her voice f ailed her.

“No, no, please, don’t be sorry. I’m here, I’m here,” he kissed her fingers. “ I’m sorry that I left you al l alone…”

“No, no”—her head shook weakly—“That’s not… Your life…” She tried to open her eyes, but they fluttered shut im mediately.

Honey reached out a hand, but éliott stopped her. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

“She needs help,” Hon ey stated.

“What is she doing?” Rafferty demanded, looking from her hand reaching for Helena to the tension between them and back to Helena.

“She’s going to give a part of her energy to strengthen her, but she shouldn’t do that,” he said, directing the last as a warning to Honey.

“Why not? If you can h elp her …”

“We are limited here,” éliott shot back. “It’s not any different than you demons. The power to keep us here has a price, but we pay it from ourselves. Sharing our power lessens our time here, which is what she did.” He nodded to Helena. “She spent that energy working miracles, which means she has to retur n sooner.”

“She helped people,” Rafferty snarled, st anding up.

“Yes, I’m not arguing that,” éliott agreed, not at all in timidated.

“It is something we all have to learn our first time here,” Honey explained, withdrawing her arm from her fellow angel’s grip. “What we do with our energy is ou r choice.”

“So it’s wiser to make it count,” éliott continued. “Do what you can when it will make the most impact. Don’t interfere too much, don’t inhibit the mortal’s choices. That’s what demons do. We try to lessen the damage the demons do against people who do not make a choice to be involved with them. We all want to save everyone, but that isn’t the point of all of this.”

Rafferty furrowed his brow. “What is t he point?”

The angels both stood quietly, unable or unwilling to answer.

Instead, the answer floated up within Rafferty.

To live.

It was as good a reason as any and better than most.

“So you won’t help her because you don’t want to give up a moment of your time here,” Rafferty sneered. He couldn’t help it, even though he understood the decision. He would have made the same one before he m et Helena.

“It’s worse than that,” éliott replied, keeping his patience, but his eyes narrowed a little more. “Anything we would give her would then go to you. It wouldn’t help her.”

“You’re sure, then?” Ho ney asked.

éliott nodded. “I wish I had been proven wrong, but yes, I am sure. She is giving up a portion of her energy, so that you can have this life.” He gestured at the whole of Rafferty, stripping away the anger he had felt. Now he felt like water, and he yielded to gravity, crouching down once more beside Helena. With a gentle hand, he brushed his fingers through her hair through the space between her horn an d her ear.

“Is this true?” he asked.

Her eyelids tensed and a tear pooled on the bridge of her nose. “I didn’t realize…”

“Helena, stop it , please.”

éliott shook his head. “It’s too late. She’s already spent it.”

Helena whimpered. “If I go now, I don’t know what will happe n to you.”

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, before setting his forehead against hers. “Let go,” he whispered. “I’m ready t o return.”

“No, you didn’t…”

He could feel it inside himself from the place of unde rstanding.

There was a choice he could make. A gift waiting for him to accept.

He emb raced it …

Something that he held back floods over him.

He accepts the price and pa ys it all.

The tie to Helena releases.

Light fills him, joins the light he’s already accepted.

I wasn’t ready before , he thinks. I am ready now.

He is filled with more. He returns what was given to him and even more ret urns back.

He gives back to Helena what she gave to him, and she opens her eyes. She is whole again. She is more than she was before. The cycle between them passes back and forth. They are infinite.

She sees him as he truly is.

Looking down at his hands, Rafferty sees the gray skin and the black nails once more.

I am a demon again , he thought, but then he turned his hand over. The skin seemed different this time. It was gray, but as it moved in the light, shots and reflections of rainbows danced over his form. Wings brush Rafferty’s shoulders. Brushed. No t scraped.

He turned his head toward them and saw instead of leathery, bat-like wings, beautiful black feathers with the same iridescence of his skin, dancing blues, greens, and purples in th eir sheen.

Amazed, he looked down at Helena, who had at last opened her golden eyes, and she smiled. Then she reached out and touched his face. “You’re beautiful,” she breathed.

Rafferty kissed her fingers, then noticed that éliott and Honey were both standing beside them in their true forms as well. Honey’s wings were the beautiful golden-brown of a hawk with equally honey skin, and éliott’s wings were the layered grays and whites of mourning doves. Like Helena, their horns crested around their heads l ike halos.

Reaching up to touch his own, he discovered they hadn’t changed. They still pointed st raight up.

A mark of who I have been, even if I am that no longer, he thought, the knowledge coming from the understanding. He liked it.

“Are you alright?” Helena asked, sitting up o n the bed.

“Yes, are you?” he asked what he thought was the more important question.

She nodded, water beading in her eyes. “I think we get to stay a littl e longer.”

“I would like to spend that time with you, if you will have me back?” he asked.

Helena laughed. “O f course!”

She was in his arms as fast as he could dive into hers. Not just their arms, but their wings, his black, hers white, wrapped around each other. His lips were met with hers, and he kissed her with every bit of his ren ewed self.

I will make the most of this new chance , he thought, and intended to say to Helena, when a snapping feeling cut th rough him.

He pulled away sharply, pressing a hand to his chest as it caught h is breath.

“Rafferty? What’s wrong?” Helena cried , alarmed.

He looked up, meeting Honey and éliott’s gazes, their expressions falling from sweet happiness to alarm.

“I—” was all he got out and then a circle opened up be neath him.

Light shot up, bright and blinding with a woosh of air that smelled of cold winters and forests of pine. The floor beneath him disappeared, and he fell within, torn from Helena’s grasp ing hands.

“Raffer—” was all she could scream and then the circle closed over him. He existed in the other side, in the vastness of everything, or at least he thought he did, but he left it so fast, his senses d isjointed.

The next thing he knew, he knelt on a woo den floor.

The circle there burned into the wood, creating a smelly wood and varnish cloud around him. The cold feeling vanished and the light swallowed back into the lines of the circle, leaving him once more in existence, but whe re was he?

“It worked. You’re here,” Eleanor cried, excited a nd amazed.

He lifted his head with dread filling his heart. She stood before him, holding Nana’s cookbook.

She had sum moned him.

Smiling with triumph, Eleanor snapped the book shut. “You’re mine!” she crowed. “I may have lost the competition, my chance, and… and everything else… But you. Are. Mine!” And sh e laughed.

And she was right. He could feel it, the same constraining binding sensation wrapping around his chest and limbs. It had always been present before whenever he had been summoned. No matter how many times he had fought it before, tried to free himself from paying the price, these bonds were un breakable.

Rafferty lowered his head.

“What do you wish for me to do? Mistress,” he said, grinding the words out so as not to let the tears gripping his throat free for h er to see.

“Nothing at this time. Just sit there,” Eleanor said smugly, flipping the cookbook open more. “We’re not done yet.”